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In his 1950 Marett Lecture, Professor Evans-Pritchard gave an account of important methodological developments which had taken place in social anthropology. I should like to use the occasion to concentrate on some of the deep contemporary divisions in another subject which interested R. R. Marett, namely, the philosophy of religion. I shall do so, however, by reference to some of the methodological issues which concerned Evans-Pritchard.

Wittgenstein, in his characteristic way of indirectly bringing us to see an important feature in human life, said: ‘… art shows us the miracles of nature… (The blossom, just opening out. What is marvellous about it?) We say: “Just look at it opening out!” This essay discusses how works of art ‘blossom’ and thus elicit an imaginative human response. Its various parts focus on the connected theme that some sensible component is essential to the production and comprehension of art. Each part, however, investigates a different aspect of the theme and could stand on its own. What will be argued about this aesthetic factor in art will also be shown to cast light on our understanding of certain narrative texts and ceremonial acts of religion.

It is sometimes asserted that Philo of Alexandria (c. 40/30 B.C.–A.D. 40/50) is the creator of systematic theology – not because he created systematics, that is, a body of doctrine classified and integrated by a set of principles defined in philosophical terms, but because he created theology, that is, a mode of philosophizing which derives its main categories from a supernatural revelation. Such a mode was pursued by Philo's Christian disciples, among whom was Origen (c. A.D. 185 to C. 254), one of the first of his faith to attempt, unsuccessfully, to formulate a systematics. Not until John Damascene (c. 675 to c. 749) was the attempt realized, but only in part: for while Damascene does classify the doctrinal truths of the Christian faith in an orderly manner, and through the use of philosophically defined concepts, he does not seek to investigate their inner philosophical intelligibility and cohesiveness. Christian doctrine was too involved for being viewed comprehensively all at once, and while some theologians, like Dionysius (c. A.D. 500) and Maximus the Confessor (c. 580–662), appear to have grasped its inner architectonics, they seem to have been unable to express it in a clear and structured literary form.

Like so many of the concepts in our everyday language the concept of meaning is one which has a multitude of different applications. In the continuing debate within social anthropology and philosophy about how we are to understand ritual behaviour and religious customs in general among people in pre-literate cultures, advocates of different views have sought to explain the meaning of the beliefs in such cultures. In speaking of the meaning of beliefs these scholars use the concept in ways that vary to some extent depending on how, in a wider perspective, they look upon religion and magic in primitive societies. One example of a particular way of looking at the beliefs and practices of alien peoples is the standpoint of John Skorupski. In his article, ‘The Meaning of Another Culture's Beliefs’, he argues for a theory of meaning, or principle of interpretation, which he calls classical and realist in its semantic aspects, and which relies on an intellectualist sociology of thought.

Would personal immortality have any value for one so endowed? An affirmative answer would seem so obvious to some that they might be tempted to go so far as to claim that immortality is a condition of life's having any value at all. The claim that immortality is a necessary condition for the meaningfulness of life seems untenable. What, however, of the claim that immortality is a sufficient condition for the meaningfulness of life? Though some might hold this to be the characteristic religious view, this is certainly disputable. Thus McTaggart reminds us, for instance, that ‘Buddhism... holds immortality to be the natural state of man, from which only the most perfect can escape.’ I want to argue that we can imagine variants of personal immortality which would not be valuable and hence immortality in itself cannot be a sufficient condition for value. What is required for the meaningfulness of life is that life exhibit certain valuable qualities. But then the endless exhibition of these qualities is not only unnecessary for the meaningfulness of life, but the endlessness of a life can even devalue those qualities that would make valuable a single, bounded life.

One of the most difficult problems for a student of religion is the problem of how to relate different religious views of life. It is not difficult to say, ‘My religious orientation has the only truth,’ but the art of giving evidence and argument to support a view on how they should be compared is almost nonexistent. Because of this, the recent work that John Hick has done in this area deserves thoughtful consideration. Since I am working on a book which is concerned with this issue, I am not only going to discuss Hick's views but also defend an alternative way of relating religious views of life. I hope this article will stimulate reactions which will be of help in my work on the book.

The major religious traditions clearly seem to be making very different claims about the nature of the religious ultimate and our relation to this ultimate. For example, orthodox Christians believe in an infinite creator God who has revealed himself definitively in the Incarnation in Jesus. But while affirming that there is one God who is creator and judge, devout Muslims reject as blasphemous any suggestion thatJesus was God incarnate. Theravada Buddhists, on the other hand, do not regard the religious ultimate as an ontologically distinct creator at all. And even within, say, the Buddhist family of traditions sharp differences emerge: followers of Jodo-Shinshu (True Sect of the Pure Land) Buddhism maintain that salvation/enlightenment is attainable simply through exercising faith in the Amida Buddha and the recitation of the nembutsu, whereas Zen monks reject as illusory any worldview which implies dualism and hold that enlightenment or satori (viz, a direct, unmediated apprehension of the ultimate nature of reality which transcends all distinctions) is to be attained only through rigorous self-discipline.

H. D. Lewis once remarked he did not think ‘any case for immortality can get off the ground if we fail to make a case for dualism’. Lewis vigorously defended both mind body dualism, the theory that minds (or persons) are nonphysical, spatially unextended things in causal interaction with physical, spatially extended things, as well as the conceivability of an after life. Lewis defended the intelligibility of supposing distinct, individual persons continue existing after bodily death, possibly even after all physical objects pass out of existence. Prominent philosophers such as Plato, Augustine, Descartes, Locke, Liebniz, and Reid have subscribed to both the truth of dualism and belief in continued personal existence after bodily death. Descartes' work might even be construed as reversing the order of Lewis' dictum. For Descartes, the case for dualism ‘gets off the ground’ because of the conceivability of an afterlife. Briefly put, Descartes sought to establish that a person (or mind) is distinct from physical objects on the basis of it being metaphysically possible for a person to exist without his or her body, indeed without there being any physical objects whatever. If A can exist without B, then A is not identical with B. Thus, if it is possible for God to bring it about that I exist and there be no physical objects, I am not a physical object. The purpose of this article is not to develop a case for dualism, nor to query whether the case for immortality can get off the ground assuming nondualist theories of the self. I hope instead to assess a popular objection to dualism, and consequently to a dualist conception of the afterlife, which could be termed the problem of individuation.

Peter Geach supports his case (Religious Studies, December, 1981) that the religion of Thomas Hobbes was both genuine and a version of Socinianism principally by comparing the theological and scriptural sections of Leviathan with the main doctrines of Socinianism and its latter-day developments in Unitarianism and Christadelphianism. He pays particular attention to comparisons with the Racovian Catechism, the theological writings of Joseph Priestley and the Christadelphian document Christendom Astray by Robert Roberts.